


Interlude: 2001

by Not_You



Series: A Nest Of Snakes [3]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Babies, Clones, F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Issues, M/M, Multi, Post-Break Up, Reconciliation, consent issues with the cloning, jack has a right to be pissed but he's also being counterproductive, parenting is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 11:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13480101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: Dad wasnotcool with the whole cloning thing.





	1. Chapter 1

Ocelot isn't actually surprised when the response to his knock is a roar of, "Fuckin' what?!" but he still winces.   
   
"Jack," he calls, and a second later the door is slamming open and Ocelot steps to one side as Jack charges out, pivots as he goes to keep up with Ocelot's dodge, and then locks them into a fierce and silent clinch until Ocelot murmurs, "And who's supervising the children, Jack?"   
   
If looks could kill, Ocelot would be dead before he hit the ground, but as it is, he just stands there against the wall where Jack left him, his heart pounding.  The door is still open as Jack walks back into the squalling of three babies, and Ocelot follows him.  "Would you little bastards shut the fuck up," he grumbles, but softly, and scoops up the closest one from the couch.     
   
Despite his expressed disgust with it, he seems to have kept the original color code, so the blue onesie probably means that this particular squaller is David.  The one in red who is doing his best to hurl himself from the cushions to the floor is surely Eli, and Ocelot catches him under his chubby little arms, cuddling him in against his chest.  He recognizes this cry, the boys just want attention.  With that in mind, he turns to George, who is a little yellow bundle on the end of the couch, furiously gumming on a teething ring and doing a remarkably accurate impression of Jack's glare for someone who's only about five and a half months old.  Ocelot chuckles and sits on the end of the couch, gathering George into his lap.  His eyes sting more than a little, and he blinks hard to keep control of them.  He has missed these little creatures, even if they are endless trouble.   
   
All three babies are quieter now, Eli vengefully chewing on Ocelot's collar while George snuggles in against his belly.  They're always so heavy for their size, and it's like their growth is a constant hum.  "This doesn't mean I forgive you," Jack grumbles, gently rocking David, who apparently felt the most neglected and is still sniffling.   
   
"Of course not," Ocelot says, and risks a look around at the apartment.  It's a complete disaster area, of course.  Not only is it the residence of a single parent with baby triplets, the single parent in question has no fucking idea what he's doing.  There's cereal ground into the carpet, dirty formula bottles on way too many surfaces, and all the debris of standard and improvised baby toys.   
   
"On solids already?" Ocelot asks.  He can't help but spare a thought for Eva, who hasn't seen her sons in the last six weeks and still can't seem to dry up, oozing milk and tears at all the worst possible moments.  It's not just missing the boys and the usual hormonal fluctuations, but her own self-loathing for sneaking around, violating Jack's consent, and allying with the brass against him.  Ocelot doesn't waste time on self-loathing, but Eva is still young, and always was soft-hearted.  He carefully turns his mind away from her pain, because if he thinks about it too hard he'll start wanting to kill Jack again.   
   
"They've always been precocious," Jack growls.  "Eli started on hamburger when my back was turned."  Ocelot has seen Jack in a lot of extremely tense and grueling situations, but he's not sure he has ever seen him look more exhausted than he does right now.  David makes a little mewling noise of discontent and Jack hushes him, pressing a kiss to his tiny head.  "Wasn't even a fucking good one," he grumbles when David is quiet, "made me wish I had found some grass-fed organic artisan whatever."   
   
"You need a sling," Ocelot says, "and some sleep."   
   
"Does Eva know you're here?" Jack asks, and someone who didn't know him would think his voice sounds normal.   
   
"No.  But you and I both know she's more than an incubator.  She may legally have nothing, but she is their mother."   
   
"I just... I can't see her, but I want her to see them," he says, and then gazes upward the way he always does when he's trying not to cry.  "Fuck, I know they miss her, I'm not stupid."  His voice cracks and he rubs viciously at his good eye.  All the ducts are still there on the other side, so tears streak down from under the patch.  "You're right," he mutters, "I need to fucking sleep.  What time is it?"   
   
"About half-past four."  He can see Jack looking to the windows to see the lowering sun, confirming to himself that Ocelot did mean pm.  It's worse than he thought.     
   
Jack yawns so hugely it makes his jaw crack, and hands David off to Ocelot, who juggles all three babies as best he can.  Jack makes a feeble explanation of where the formula and diapers are kept, and then totters into his room and collapses.  After a few minutes, Ocelot carefully sets the boys back onto the crumb-smeared couch and makes his silent way to the bedroom door.  Jack is out cold on top of the covers, shoes still on.  Ocelot would take them off for him, but it feels presumptuous in their estrangement.  He goes back to the babies before they can start complaining again, and learns how Jack got so worn down.     
   
Any one human infant is demanding, three at once is a nightmare.  Ocelot has minded them before, but always with Eva's help or at least a lab tech to hold one while he dealt with the others.  He did not come here intending to introduce any more variables to this situation than his own presence, but four hours in he breaks and calls Eva.  Forget her emotional needs, one of these kids is going to fall out a window or something if he doesn't have help.  They're already crawling, even if their form is sloppy and they stop to rest a lot, and switching focus three ways leaves them time to cover a lot of distance.  He has already had to keep George from tipping head-first into the bathtub, so when Eva shows up he just shoves David into her arms because he's starting to make complaining noises again and Ocelot needs to go keep Eli away from the electrical outlets.   
   
It's only after Ocelot has the others corralled again that he hears Eva's quiet weeping.  She can usually maintain utter silence, but now she makes tiny, painful sounds as she nurses David and bathes him with tears.  He looks up at her with the huge blue eyes they all have, and she beams down at him.  Ocelot has to look away, because he still has the sense memory of the first time his mother ever got to hold him, phantom pressure and scent. 


	2. Chapter 2

Eva has to get out of here before Jack wakes up.  She hasn't said a word to Ocelot, but he knows.  Among the many things she can't deal with right now is that particular confrontation.  If someone had stolen the boys, she would hunt them, if she had decided it would be best to give them up, she would keep it together and never let anyone see her cry.  But this way she has nothing.  Aching breasts full of milk, aching heart full of self-loathing, and the dire knowledge that Jack doesn't know his sons like he should.  He has probably barely figured out that David hates to be held on the right side, even more drawn to a steady heartbeat than his brothers.   
   
One of the constant questions Eva has had to live with is 'did I want them too much?'  Now, sitting here with David in her left arm and George in her right while Eli sits in her lap and idly gnaws on her shirt, she knows that the answer is yes and that she doesn't care.  She tells them softly that she loves them, in all the languages she knows, while Ocelot hides in the kitchen, ostensibly to make dinner but also to avoid lacerating his own mommy issues.  Watching Eva pine for her sons must have been its own torture.  Not that watching Ocelot get drunk and play sad songs on guitar isn't something that should be outlawed under the Geneva Convention.  Not that the Convention has ever had much effect on their lives.   
   
Eva is just trying to tear herself away when a tiny shift in the air pressure of the room makes her look up, straight into Jack's good eye.  He looks terrible and perfect and her throat ties itself into a knot.  She is going to hurl herself out the window if she starts to cry again now, always weeping like a fucking sponge these days.  She's expecting some kind of attack, even if Jack is far too decent for it to be anything but verbal when she's sitting here holding two drowsy babies, but instead he just stares at her for a while.   
   
"Eva," he says at last, and the name sounds like it hurts him physically, dragged up from his heart on a chain of hooks.     
   
She grits her teeth and does not blink her stinging eyes.  She says nothing, because there's nothing to say that she can bear to.  'I love you' and 'I'm sorry' are both true, and either one would flay them both.  The silence goes on forever, and then George breaks it with a little complaining noise, reaching for his father.  For a moment Jack stays frozen, and then he comes shuffling over, taking George from her arms like they're some kind of normal parents who do this every day.   
   
"Hey, kiddo," he rumbles, still bleary-eyed and exhausted, but smiling softly down at his son.   
   
"Abababa," George informs him, and makes a grab for his eyepatch.   
   
"IFR," Jack replies, pulling his head back, and Eva can't help a cracked, entirely too teary giggle.   
   
"Gotta watch out for these little monsters," Jack mutters, and Eva's heart twists in her chest.  He says it like any other parent would, and she wants to kiss him and to shoot him and of course, to cry.   
   
"You son of a bitch," is what she says at last, but to her own ears she sounds more plaintive and tired than angry.  This whole thing has destroyed her, leaving whatever useless bag of saltwater she is now.   
   
"I didn't..." Jack grits his teeth and looks away for a moment, that familiar tension in his jaw that he gets when he knows he's wrong.  "I didn't think it through.  Of course you're their mother, I didn't see how anyone could disagree with that."   
   
"You saw the internal memos talking about them like they were ordinance, Jack.  At best, I'm a manufacturer."   
   
"Yeah, and not to me, and I know I fucked up, but I never asked for any of this!" Jack snaps, and George whimpers in distress.  Jack heaves a massive sigh and gently rocks him, muttering to him that it's all right, to just shut the hell up, nobody's gonna hurt him.  "I mean... I love these little bastards, but forget asking, no one even told me!"  He looks up, and the pain on his face makes her cringe.  "How could you help them do that to me?"   
   
"Because it was going to happen anyway," Ocelot says, and it's ridiculous to see him emerging from the kitchen at a time like this, wiping his deadly hands on a dishcloth.  "They had too much of your tissue, Jack.  We thought about destroying every sample, but we knew we'd never find them all."   
   
"You still didn't have to fucking _help_ ," Jack growls.   
   
"They just wanted more of their Eternal Soldier," Eva says, voice cracking again, "we wanted more of _you_.  If they were going to do this anyway, I wasn't going to let it be with some bitch who never even met you."     
   
And now she is fucking crying, and there's nothing for it.  Eli and David both make the same little mewling noise, David's tiny hand patting her cheek, and she just barely laughs, kissing them both on their tiny heads and doing her best not to douse them in saline.  Jack just stands and watches for a minute and then turns away.   
   
"Fuck it," he mutters, and hands George to Ocelot.  "I'm going out for a smoke."   
   
While Jack is gone, the five of them just sit there on the couch in silence until George produces a sad little noise and then a cloud of stench.  Ocelot grimaces and Eva sends air out of her nose in a sharp puff.  "I heard it was worse when they started solids," she says, "but fucking hell, George."   
   
"I did the last two," Ocelot says, and Eva trades him David and Eli for George, carrying him into the bathroom where all the diapering supplies are all over the place, the remains of poor Jack trying to keep it organized.  She changes George on a towel on the counter, cooing to him as she works.  He gurgles and pees straight up, but she knows how to dodge that by now.   
   
"Too bad you all have to be boys," she says, wiping him up and putting on a fresh diaper.  He gurgles happily when she picks him up, and it's almost enough to make her start fucking crying again.  "I've missed you, baby," she murmurs, and kisses his tiny head.  She cradles him in one arm as she mops up the pee, and emerges from the bathroom to find Jack and Ocelot on the couch, each with a baby on his lap as Ocelot cups Jack's face in his hands and kisses him.  They're beautiful together.  They always are, and Jack sinks into the kiss, tired and vulnerable in a way even Eva has seldom seen.   
   
"Let's just be together," Ocelot murmurs in Russian, pulling away just far enough to speak.   
   
"Yes," Jack whispers, and kisses him again.  He sits up straight and looks over at Eva.  She doesn't move, doesn't even breathe, until he holds out a hand to her.  She goes to sit beside him, and he puts his arm around her, pulling her in against his side where she bathes in his scent and the slightly frantic beat of his heart.  "Eva," he whispers, and when she looks up at him, he kisses her. 

**Author's Note:**

> IFR - I Fucking Refuse


End file.
